Something in the Water
by RemixTheRogue
Summary: We all know the good ending of the first BioShock; the former Little Sisters brought to the surface and blessed with normal lives after their previously sinister ones in Rapture. It's 2019, and the girls have long since grown up and split their own ways, only to be reunited at a funeral. One former Gatherer presents disturbing developments of the underwater city.
1. Part One

**_"There is always a lighthouse, there's always a man, there's always a city." -Elizabeth_**

**_Part One - The Funeral_**

* * *

_ The hatch door to the Bathysphere opened, and the blinding sunlight flowed into the cramped, dark space. A little girl looked out of the entrance and shielded her eyes as she looked up at the azure sky, not a cloud in vision. The warmth of the sun felt good on her sickly-pale skin, was her first thought on the surface of Earth. The other four girls crowded to the entrance as well and gazed in awe at the glittering, vast sea that lapped up against the sides of the lighthouse. _

_ A shadow suddenly cloaked over her, which relieved the brightness that blinded her. The little girl looked up to see a man, their savior that freed them of their torment in Rapture, extending a hand to help her off of the vehicle first. She gingerly took his hand and looked up to see his face shadowed by the sunlight shining behind him. It looked like a halo, she thought. An angel...but a good angel. Not one that she stuck that needle in to._

_ She hopped off of the Bathysphere and onto the wet steps of the stone lighthouse and then assisted guiding her other 'little sisters' to the doorstep where it was dry. The sun warmed the stone before, and it took some getting used to as the little girls frequently went back to the wet stairs to cool off their feet. _

_One last look at the inside of the Bathysphere, where a golden handle stood right across from the door. _

_One last look at what luxury remained of Rapture. _

_The hatch door was shut and sealed, then the Bathysphere was pushed away from the docking area. It bobbed up and down for a few moments, before sinking below the intense navy tides._

_This memory would be ingrained in her mind for her entire life._

"Julie? Julie!"

"Hm? Oh, sorry. I was thinking again." The murky waters of my memory were swiftly cleared of my head as I was pulled from them, I looked at Judy.

"You're always thinking, and a little too much as of recent. Come on, let's get inside before the others get here." Judy patted my arm before getting out of the car with a grunt of effort.

She assisted me out from the passenger seat of her car, before slamming the door shut and locking the car over her shoulder as we walked up to the church. The car chirped thrice. I remained silent as we trekked across the large parking lot. Judy looked at me with concern; she found a moment to finally grill me with questions.

"You've been awful quiet since Rose Mary's death...are you holding up okay?" Judy inquisitively cocked a brow. In truth, I have, but I kept it to myself. The recent news from my occupation has weighed down heavy on my mental state.

"I'm fine. I'm not sure about Anne though...she seems to be taking her death particularly hard," I respond and feel pity bloom across my chest.

Judy shook her head with a sigh. "Poor old girl's always been sensitive. I knew something like this would ruin her. Hell, I expected her to go first, in all honesty."

"Me too," I nodded. "Tell me what happened, I never heard what went on."

"She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's."

"No, I know that, after her diagnostic."

"Oh. Well," Judy sighed, "She started to act a little _bizarre_."

"Nothing is too absurd for us," I uttered under my breath. It took every ounce of my physical being not to roll my eyes at the statement, as it wasn't far from the truth. Our past was the definition of bizarre. "I'd say being genetically modified little girls wielding big syringes carrying some drug is pretty _bizarre_."

"Well, she had a mental relapse," Judy carried on, ignoring my comment. "She began...seeing things again. We were mentally conditioned as young children to see the world around us differently, but it wore off over time. Hers came back, and she thought she saw good old Mister Bubbles."

I shook my head in disbelief, "She did? Did the doctors even question it?"

"Apparently not."

"Of course. Psychotic episodes' themes are often overlooked as fictional...little did they know what Rose Mary was reenacting was true."

"At least she didn't go on a murderous rampage and tried stabbing people with 'syringes,' which were really just straws from her cup of water."

Both of us laugh, then an awkward silence.

"Do you think people are still down there? Trapped?"

"Hardly believe it. That was what, sixty years ago?"

"This year will be the sixtieth anniversary of the Kashmir bombing," I shake my head in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

"Anyone who was there has died out, I suppose. I don't think Splicers can, well, repopulate!" Judy laughed, which earned a snicker from me. The aching feeling of dread lingered in the pit of my stomach as I thought of going back to Rapture and turned my eyes to the church up ahead.

"I suppose you're right."

* * *

The funeral proceeding went on as mournfully as I had expected it to do, all of us sisters had done some amount of silent weeping as the speakers each went up individually to speak about stories of Rose Mary. I did not go up to talk, I had not wanted to. As much as I'm okay with public speaking as much as the next person, something told me to not speak here. Come to find out, I really wouldn't have been able to.

It hurt. No doubt, I _would have_ broken down. Anne and Dianne had done the public speaking for Judy and I. Many people attended; family and friends mainly. Some coworkers.

One thing about Rose Mary was that she had some damn excellent sympathy skills. It was indeed a shame how she went, having to be reminded of her past and reverting back to her hallucinatory mental state from when she was less than six, maybe five years old. We all saw it, we all had that same mental state. I was the youngest, being only about a year behind the others, escaping Rapture at just shy of five years old.

Rose Mary did not deserve to go that way. She deserved to surrounded by her family that she started once she graduated high school, didn't even go to college. That girl...I don't know how she did it. I was honestly jealous of her at one point, how she seemed to have everything and perfect life. Married her high school sweetheart after she graduated, or as Miss Tenembaum said, found love. Found love, she did. She was married to that great man for almost forty years...but became a widow as he passed away from cancer.

Rose Mary was a right old person. Hell, an outstanding person. She was a housewife her life and enjoyed doing so, but always did some sort of odd job like babysitting or folding peoples' laundry, just to busy herself once her children were at school. A lot of that money went to charities and was an active member of the church she attended.

Why do good people have to have such bad endings? This, indeed, I never understood.

I digress.

To distract myself from weeping further, I swam in my thoughts and prepared for what I was going to say after the service, to the girls. We had to be alone for me to say this, no one else could be in earshot, for the security of us and my job.

I felt that same aching despair return again upon the thought of it. I wiped my eyes with a handkerchief and looked at the beautiful bouquet of flowers that sprouted out of a vase upon the altar, two smaller containers on each side of it. Those flowers mainly consisted of chrysanthemums, geraniums, and mums. They were all different beautiful shades of purple and pink, which reminded me of her personality of being soft and tender.

A small smile appeared as I experienced a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. Rose Mary always told us to separate her ashes in two, one half to throw into the ocean, and the other to keep to the youngest. She often joked about how we would bicker over who would be able to keep her and put that rule in place, saying how I would have to have a whole closet dedicated to us.

I began to silently weep again aside Judy.

Anne was now up at the stand and began to tell us about our fabricated life in Lebanon Kansas, where we were all in foster care and brought together by the tender woman Brigid Tenenbaum and Jack Ryan. Not too far off from the real story, we were indeed taken in by Miss Tenenbaum and brought up nice young ladies. It really did hurt when Jack passed. It was up to us young women to take this death head on and distract ourselves from the grief; some of us married, some of us not. We had not gone our own ways yet.

Pictures on her memory board in the back of the sanctuary displayed Rose Mary and the many portraits of her. I'll admit, she was a great woman but did she ever love to take pictures of herself and her family. It was almost too much and too annoying. Often times we would change the subject when she starts to talk about her family a bit too much, and we've eventually trained her to stop that behavior, much to our bemusement. People were free to take pictures as they left.

As soon as the service was done, everyone cleared out of the small sanctuary and into the lobby. We didn't have much time, however, and we had to make it to the kitchen to help with dishing out the food for the funeral-goers. I was the very last one, even after the Pastor and organist left. I sat in the last pew, gazing at the flowers now illuminated by the tall stain glass windowed-sunlight.

"Et Deus tuus Requiem maem," I utter, before getting up to take the picture boards out.

However, I stopped before taking them off of the easels. I gazed at what pictures remained amidst the bands of tape that kept the other images on, the bare foam left behind from the peeled off paper that covered it. Those pictures that were left behind were mainly the group photos and some family portraits.

One picture made my heart sink once I saw it, and to think it made it on the picture board.

It was a picture of us, just after making it to the boat that was flagged down by Tenenbaum. For whatever reason, she desired to take a photo of us, perhaps thinking that it would be a good memory.

We did not look well, the photo of us displayed our sickly pale skin and sunken eyes, and the messy variety of hair colors tied back at the nape of our neck. The dirty, ripped dresses that we wore harvesting ADAM from the dead bodies of Splicers.

For a moment, I thought that I saw the body of one on the floor of the sanctuary during the service. I knew it was my mind playing tricks, but it truly startled me.

That mental conditioning never really leaves someone but is just reduced.

It will never get away from us; our past.

I gazed some more at the picture boards, feeling my breath quicken, but I could only stare at that single picture. The floodgates broke, and the memories rushed in all at once- memories that I haven't graced my mind in years.

Those two mysterious people that I occasionally saw through the broken corridors of Rapture; a man and a woman, who just stared.

The guardian that followed behind me with trudging footsteps, and the occasional low bellow from him. Remembering those forsaken halls that I briefly witnessed when startled by the Splicers who attacked me.

The massive, spinning drill coated with guts and blood.

I peeled off the photo from the board and folded it, then slipped it into the pocket of my pants.

"Julie! You comin'?" Dianne poked her head in through the doorway. I was snapped out of my thoughts, nodded, and took down the boards. I headed to the kitchen, pushing past the groups of people that conversed amongst each other.

One never forgets about their past; they are only haunted by it.

"Sure, I'll be right there."

"Well hurry, people are gettin' hungry!"

"I hear you, I hear you."

Silence, Dianne and I stared at each other awkwardly. She probably noted the sorrow written across my face.

"You gonna hold up okay?"

"Maybe."

She nods.

"Dianne?"

"Yes?"

"Meet me in the dressing room once we're finished serving. I have news I have to tell the both of you."

* * *

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HEADCANONS, THE CANON CHARACTERS INVOLVED (the grown-up little sisters, tenenbaum, jack, and any other canon characters mentioned) OR THE BIOSHOCK FRANCHISE AS A WHOLE. pls dont sue me i just like writing and bioshock 3 thank u xddd

hi! thanks for reading!

boy it's been a while since i've actually published something on here. last story i published was a collab with my friend in middle school, lmao

anyways. i absolutely do plan on writing a second part for this story. i honestly just posted this part here to give some kind of cliffhanger and dip my toes back in the water of fancfiction and see how this fares! plus, this idea's been brewing in my head, so i've been itching to get it out lol. yes, i do want to annoy you with this cliffhanger :^) plus have a very messed up sleep schedule and an unhealthy obsession with bioshock, so its a perfect storm, heres this story.

tell me what you think about it, constructive criticism is appreciated! i don't see many fics about the 1st gen little sister epilogue so i wanted to put my own spin on it. stay tuned for part two (coming whenever, but i promise it wont be in like 300 years!) have a blessed day!

-rtr

ps: also rating might change for future chapters, it depends on how much cursing may be involved and other bioshock-ey gory things :^) hehe

EDIT: Thank you reviewer Merendinoemiliano for catching some lore inconsistencies in the previous edit of this chapter! I really appreciate it, as I want to keep this to as close as the lore as possible!


	2. Part Two

**_"I fear Rapture has not seen the last of my sins..." -Brigid Tenenbaum_**

_**Part Two - Contingency**_

* * *

"_Rosey? We're home," Dianne called from downstairs as she shut the door behind her and plopped her backpack on the kitchen counter. "Rose...?"_

_"The poor little one is asleep," Tenenbaum responded from the sink, finishing washing a dish and pulling the rubber gloves off. "No no, take that dirty thing off of the counter! I just cleaned it!"_

_"It's just a backpack, it isn't the plague," Dianne offhandedly mumbled and pulled her bag from the countertop. _

_"I don't know where that thing has been, it has probably been on the floor, where everyone else has had their shoes! The last thing I want is the lot of you and Jack getting sick," The older woman tutted before shaking her head in disapproval and wiping away a strand of gray hair from her forehead. "She is upstairs resting. Please be quiet as you go up."_

_Dianne nodded obediently. "Sorry, Mama Tenenbaum," she uttered under her breath before heading upstairs to Rose Mary's room._

_The other three were already present- Judy and Anne sitting at the foot of her bed, and Julie leaning against the wall adjacent to it; the girl in question with the sheets pulled over her head and silently crying, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. Dianne's brows knit to a furrow of concern as she approached quietly, mouthing a silent 'Is she okay' to Anne. _

_Anne nods and mouths back, 'Relapse.'_

_Dianne gritted her teeth, that was the third time this month it happened to any of the five of them._

_"Hey," she softly said crouched next to Rose Mary's bedside. "Everything alright?"_

_"Nothing's alright," Rose Mary wept. "I had the biggest relapse, and I'm so embarrassed."_

_"Hmm," Dianne thought for a moment. "Well, did it happen in front of other people?"_

_Finally, the weeping teen pushed the sheets away from her head and sat up. Dark circles captured her eyes, and her skin looked dull and sickly, a shade or two lighter than its standard color. It seemed to catch Dianne by surprise, as her eyebrows raised. _

_"You look terrible!"_

_"I know," Rose Mary covered her face with her hands. "I got sick, I think it was something I ate for lunch today. Please don't let Jack know, he'll go out of his way to find out the cause of this!"_

_Dianne exchanged glances with Anne and Judy, then Julie. _

_"What...?" The girl eyed her four sisters, warily. _

_Judy sighed and placed a hand on Rose Mary's covers to smooth out the wrinkles. "Rosey, I think that you got sick 'cause of your relapse."_

_"Tell us about it. What did you see?" Julie spoke up suddenly and idly paced about her room while she listened to her description._

_The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing with a strained voice as if holding back tears. "It was the same as what we saw in Rapture. Draped walls with red ribbons tied to them, one of our former knights in shining armor. I got dizzy...so dizzy to the point where I kind of blew chunks in the toilet."_

_Anne couldn't help but grimace. "You threw up in a toilet?"_

_"Where else was I supposed to? I wasn't going to clog up the sink, and I definitely wasn't gonna let it sit in that hot room in a trash can all day," Rose Mary shot back defensively and folded her arms. She looked away shamefully._

_"Eugh, but the school toilets..."_

_"C' mon, Anne, what would have you done?" Judy commented. Anne ignored her question._

_As the four discussed, Julie meandered over to Rose Mary's desk to see many crumpled up sheets of notebook paper wadded in the trash can. A quick glance over her shoulder to see if she was being watched. As soon as she realized she had no eyes on her, she was down on one knee plucking one sheet from the garbage and carefully smoothing it out. The youngest teen scanned the sheet at the chicken-scratch illustrations that were scrawled across the paper. Her eyes widened in surprise with an underlying sense of dread._

_The drawings were fervently scribbled, some lines even tearing through the paper. 'Disturbing' was the first word that silently left Julie's lips as she plucked more drawings out of the trash can, all each following the same theme: Rapture. The visions that they experienced as young children, what they saw through their eyes with this mental conditioning fully enacted in their minds._

_ The drapery on the walls and the vents were engaged in detail, nearly a realistic copy of them, yet hastily drawn at the same time. One drawing was a Big Daddy and a Little Sister, the syringe she held dripping with what could only be described as ADAM. The contents inside the bottle sloshed as the girl walked down the corridor, her other tiny hand holding the mighty hand of her protector. Another was an enraged Splicer attacking the paper's point of view. A few more were variations of hallucinatory-induced visions of rooms, like the school bathroom and a corridor lined with lockers._

_Rose Mary always had a knack for drawing, but this was almost belligerent. This was very uncharacteristic of the tender girl, the one who would aid an injured bird and nurse it back to health._

_She never illustrated things like this, ever._

_Without the others noticing, Julie carefully folded the wrinkled papers and slipped them into her sweater pocket._

* * *

"I don't understand." Anne shook her head in disbelief. The four were silent after her statement in contemplative silence.

Dianne wrung her hands nervously. "W-Wouldn't this have washed up years ago? Why did it take so long to pass through currents and a fisherman reeling it in on _Palm Beach,_ of all places?"

I shook my head in opposition. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I had to try my best to calm them down before it gets worse. "I don't know. But all I know is that the CIA wants to know what it is, and I'm the one who analyzes this thing. I put in a special request to do so."

"Let me get this straight," Judy lifted a hand to silence the others, gazing at the ground with her eyebrows furrowed in distressed contemplation. "A Big Sister diving suit was just reeled in by a fisherman in _southern Florida_? The skeleton inside and all?"

I nodded gingerly, thinking as if my words I was about to speak were to soften the blow somehow. "That's right. Completely intact. They have no idea where it came from."

"Yeah, and they can't know! If they did, it would eventually be traced back to us, and we'd be some Area 51 experiments for sure!" Anne threw her hands up in the air in an exasperated manner, shaking her head.

"Shh, keep your voice_ down!"_ Dianne hushed her sister, bringing a finger up to her lips. "We can't have anyone listen in on this discussion."

"The lot of you calm down, please." I attempted to soften my hard stare as much as I can in an attempt to ease their nerves. "Listen, I know that this is scary, but we're all in the same boat here. I sure as hell will make sure that they won't trace anything back to us, okay?"

Silence, the three stared at me with eyes reaming into my soul. I hate it when they do that, it always bothered me.

"I need a shot of tequila right about now," Judy mumbled, patting down the curls on her head. "Uffda."

"You guys can trust me." I smiled with an overcoming wash of determination. "We won't be Area 51 experiments, and it won't be traced back to us."

"Please don't let them discover the location," Anne begged. "Please."

My heartfelt heavy as she gave me that look: The puppy-dog eyed look of desperation. Damn it! I hate that too! Come on, Julie, get it together.

"I-..." I felt myself shake my head and take off my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose. A forced sigh escaped my nose. "They will find out eventually, they were already starting to consider pulling the old research archives back out. Remember when those children went missing along the coast of several different countries, including the US?"

"Yeah...what was it called? 'There's Something in the Water' or something?" Judy questioned, the inflection of her voice still melancholy. She took a seat on the velvet sofa and rested her chin on her knuckles, gazing at the wall blankly.

"Right. The feds were thinkin' of getting their hands on this and revisiting the case, and taking the bones from the diving suit to see if it matched any DNA results."

"We don't know anything about what happened after we left down there, aside from what Miss Tenenbaum told us, Julie. Are you sure that it's entirely safe to revisit this?" Anne interjected. "You could cover it up as some diver with a needle attached to their arm."

"Anne, you know I can't do that!" I felt a brief wave of irritation crash over me upon hearing that. I may be easygoing, but I sure as hell take my job seriously. "I'd get fired, and probably arrested for tampering with evidence to a huge case!"

"But how would they know you tampered with it? You could have received it that way, pin the blame on someone else."

"Anne, Julie, cut it out," Dianne sternly remarked. "You aren't going to cover it up."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" I shot back with an agitated temper.

"Simple," Dianne lifted her head and looked at the three of us. "We gather our own information from someone who does know about Rapture, then you can craft your knowledge and conveniently leave out the detrimental parts."

My arms folded, and I rested my weight on one foot. "How do you believe we could get someone with that knowledge, that's still kickin'?"

"Miss Eleanor Lamb, to my knowledge, is still alive and well. We may have a number in Miss Tenenbaum's things."

This just got _very much_ more complex than I anticipated.

* * *

_hi what's up, welcome back to "it's 4 am and i'm awake writing, what has my life come to" hour with remix lmao_

_i hope this chapter was enjoyable, i had a hard time keeping the ball rolling with this one, but i think it's smooth sailing for the next few chapters! if there are any inconsistensies with the lore, please point that out in the reviews and i will be quick to correct it. thank you, again, merendinoemiliano, for reviewing my first chapter and catching that minor detail that was incorrect, and for the encouraging words!_

_at the moment i'm currently making plans for what to write the next chapter and so on, but i may not be able to translate it onto document by tomorrow night, but who knows. just a forewarning, updates won't be as quick in the future lol_

_i also don't plan on this fic being too big of a story, as cool as that may sound. i'm shooting for at least five chapters, but that may be it, who knows._

_anyways. stay safe, god bless ya, and thanks for reading until the end of this chapter! here's to hopefully higher quality chapters in the future! *clinks champagne glass*_

_until next time..._

_-rtr_


	3. Part Three

**_Warning: Spooky Big Sister autopsy stuff. You've been warned._**

**_"The mind of the subject will desperately struggle to create memories where none exist..." -R. Lutece_**

**_Part Three - The Suit_**

* * *

_"Come on, Daddy!" The Little Sister bounded merrily down the mildewy corridor. In tow her guardian trudged along, occasionally dragging the behemoth drill against the floor and would let out a wallowing moan. She hopped, skipped, and jumped along the dirty metal floor; conveniently over the corpses of Splicers that were previously slain. They all had varying degrees of wounds, ranging from a gunshot to the chest or their innards drilled out by a Gatherer's protector._

_"Look, Daddy, an angel," the girl crouched down to look at the dead Splicer's face. The girl, blinded by the mental rewiring done on her, saw the man in a peaceful slumber, his eyes fluttered shut, and his lips upturned in a satisfied smile. The faint illumination of angel wings and a halo were traced along the floor. She began to do what was instructed of her: extract ADAM from the angels. _

_Her protector valiantly fought off oncoming Splicers while the girl was blissfully unaware, poking the needle in and out on several places of the man's body to find the sweet spot for the viscous ambrosia._

* * *

"Alright, thanks, Judy. I appreciate it...keep looking for her info. I'll report to you what I find when I'm finished. Right- bye now." A quick sweep of my vision around me to see anyone who may be listening before I ended the call. A sigh left my lips as the door was opened for me, I gave a quick smile, and a 'thank you' to the kind person who offered the good deed.

"Morning, Miss Williams, what's on the schedule today?"

"Mornin' Gus," I idly responded to the janitor as I poured myself a cup of coffee from the machine that sat on a wooden table, seemingly presenting itself as a complimentary beverage for anyone who came in. "Nothing much, the usual. How're the kids?"

It's great that the coffee was free because I'll be making frequent trips to that coffee machine today.

"Oh, they're good, they're good," Gus nodded and dipped the mop back into the brown water in the old yellow water bucket. I swear, they never really even change that water, just reuse it. I've never, in my life, seen clean water in that dirty plastic bucket on wheels, which usually indicated that the brief interaction between us was finished.

"See ya' later, don't go slipping on that water now!" I offered a wave over my shoulder and took a drink of the steaming liquid, uncaring if it seared my mouth and throat. Sometimes you needed an excellent burn to your mouth to wake you up in the morning...but the coffee was stale. A fruitless effort indeed, now I was just burned in the mouth with a crappy taste of overcooked coffee beans.

"I'll try not to," a laugh was heard from the janitor as he continued to clean the floor. "Stay safe."

"Will do."

The journey to my office space has commenced, welcome to my life.

I dropped my belongings on the floor beside me and sat down at my desk, I didn't even bother to hang up my coat on the hook at the entrance of the cramped space. With a sigh, I dropped the styrofoam cup in the trash and rested my head on the desk for a few moments.

Another long day, huh? Great.

I finally lift my head after a few long moments of contemplative silence ringing in my ears and notice a sticky note tacked to the linen wall of my cubicle, among the pictures of Rose Mary and Dianne's grandchildren.

'WEST WING. NOON. -KASIE K.'

"Well, I'll be damned," I uttered and plucked the tacked note off of the wall, observing it closely. "She did listen."

This was going to be good. I felt a flutter of excitement flare in my diaphragm as I stared at my blank monitor screen thoughtfully. Was I really going to see what Miss Tenenbaum described to us?

If only Rose Mary were still alive, damn it! She would have loved to finally see a development in the story, only to be led on by those far and few news articles that reported on the children going missing, and the occasional conspiracy theorist news clipping saying that a people-eating sea monster lurked in the Atlantic Ocean...if only the document archive 'There's Something in the Water' was released to the public. We all knew what was really going on, not exclusively, but that it had to do with some nefarious person in Rapture.

Anything that involved the Atlantic Ocean was intriguing to any of us, really. Judy became a marine biologist, Dianne works at an aquarium, and Anne is a hydrologist, and I'm with the Navy Criminal Investigation Services- fitting for some little girls who are from the underwater, I'd say.

Now we wait, attempting to pass the time by completing minuscule tasks tacked onto my job at the last minute. One report, then proofreading the next.

Boy, time really does slow down when you do things in an attempt to occupy yourself.

Eleven-forty. Eleven forty-five. Eleven fifty.

Eleven fifty-five.

I collect some paperwork to slide into my messenger bag for later to work on, then get up and collect my coat.

* * *

"Took you long enough," Kasie uttered to me as we both exited through the glass side doors. "I told them where you're gonna be, don't worry."

For someone who is almost too young to be my daughter, she really nails it on the head with her loyalty. She served under us as an intern, but I secretly showed her the ropes of her aspiring job: an investigator.

"Well, thank you, darling," I responded with a hint of scorn in a mock Trans-Atlantic timbre.

"Yeah yeah, sounds like you drank from the coffee pot this morning," the young woman sniggered and twirled her keyring between her fingers.

I scoffed, "I still have that taste in my mouth. Who the hell made that coffee this morning?"

"Gus did, the poor guy turned the heat on the burner too high."

"Oh," I suddenly rescinded my statement mentally and began to feel bad. Poor guy, indeed. "I'd say we should just, uh, maybe invest in a machine that takes those little coffee pods."

"Those are so wasteful though," Kasie countered. "Don't you want to save the turtles?"

"Don't pull that millennial crap on me," I rolled my eyes and elbowed her arm.

A head shake and an 'I Told You So' shrug, "I am a millennial, after all, it comes naturally."

"Alright, you win," I placed a hand on the door handle of the passenger side and awaited the muted click and the lock tab shooting up from the mechanism. Opening the door, I tossed my bag on the floor, hoisting myself up into the seat with a push from my foot on the drop step.

Trucks never fancied me, though I did like riding in metal fortresses that would keep me alive in a T-Bone. I have a large SUV myself, but Dianne drives one of those little mosquito hatchbacks. Who could even drive those, knowing you might die when some stupid teenager decides to pick up their phone while driving?

Sorry. I'm getting off track.

"You owe me lunch," Kasie giggled and turned over the ignition.

"Keep talking like that, and you'll be washing dishes to pay for your meal."

"Touché."

...

"Alright, let's get this party started." I snapped on a pair of disposable gloves on and pulled a mask over my nose and mouth. Scenarios began to run through my mind, and questions as well. How did this Big Sister end up washing up? Surely it could have not been floating around for 50 years, wouldn't someone have found it already?

So many questions, such little answers.

"I hope you can still stomach gross things," Kasie bantered and snapped the mask over her nose.

"I've been in the force since before you were born, trust me, I think I'm fine."

"Good afternoon, ladies, I hope your day's been well," said the morgue worker as he entered the room.

"Well, hopefully, it'll remain good after we figure out what the hell washed up on the Florida shores," Kasie remarked and asked the mortician a few questions. This went on for several minutes, and he seamlessly responded with answers.

"Alright, c'mon, open 'er up!" My impatience showed through finally and us three gathered at the cold locker where the remains were held.

The worker pulled out the table from the drawer.

My heart dropped when I saw what was laying on the table. A fully intact body, with a festering gunshot wound in the chest.

Thinking of this, my brows furrowed at the scar-marred, frail body. "I thought this was supposed to be the bones of someone, not an intact body."

"Turns out the poor girl was so skinny that we thought that it was just bones left in the suit."

Kasie jotted down notes on a notepad of her observations, I searched the marred face of the Big Sister. "What state did you find her in?"

"She had been long dead since we discovered her. We're about to perform an autopsy on her if you'd like to watch."

I shook my head, I definitely did not want to see what was inside that thing...boy, that man is in for a surprise when he discovers what the hell is in her. "Where did you put the things she was wearing when you found her?"

"Her equipment was too much to put in a locker, we hung it up in the janitor's closet."

So much for the professionalism aspect, huh?

"Alright," I continued and made no effort to keep my eyes on the body, "Kasie can stay here and observe it, I'm gonna go and take a looksie at the suit."

"Aww, why do I have to be stuck with the body?"

"Because I'm old," A sly grin was felt crawling across my face, "You're nimble. The wiser, the warier."

...

The worker directed me down the corridor to the closet that hung the suit; noting the dinginess of their operations. It was something out of a horror movie, maybe, but anything can be taken at this point in time. You'd expect it to be prim and proper, really, but it could be farther from the truth.

All had to be tolerated when having this job, right?

My hand connected with the cold brass doorknob and slowly turned it, while pushing the door open. I felt something crack under my foot when I stepped into the closet, and a squelching sound was heard. I look down in anticipation, and a creature that probably crawled from the God-forsaken suit was squished across the floor.

A crab with barnacles pocked from the protective shell, it looked like.

Well, maybe, not anymore...now crab meat and shards of shells and crushed barnacles stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I felt myself grimace at the sight of the creature's fate, before scraping it off on the frame of the door and uttering in disgust.

Eventually, I had gotten the matter from my shoe, and my eyes lifted to the diver's suit, hooked to a pair of chains that hung from makeshift hooks drilled into the wall. The helmet was propped on a chair, the lifeless gaze of the single eye stung my soul like a wasp. The mangled, color-drained bows were securely fastened to the squares where the metal rods crossed over to form a sort of half-dome cage. The air tank's handle was rusted beyond the ability to be turned; long drained of any air that may have been feeding into the helmet through the tubes.

The weapon. That damned weapon, along with the other glove, was placed on a shelf at the room's left side. The needle looked to have been filed down to be blunted to prevent injury.

One thing seemed to strike me quite profoundly, however, was the full jar of ADAM that was screwed in and fed into the glove's device.

I felt a feeling deep in my gut that I haven't felt in years. I felt a sense of terrifying dread and fear, yet it seemed intermingled with vague traces of nostalgia, much to my bemusement. This feeling was stirring, churning in the pit of my stomach, making me feel a little bit queasy.

To be in front of this once living, vicious creature's very husk, was very surreal; Tenenbaum was right, it is a fear-inducing display.

Pulling the gloves tighter on to my hands, I began to work and observe, and then I write down notes of my observations. Dull process, really. From grisly murders to scouring a robbed house, the same procedure was involved in everything.

Yet, this time, note-taking for this was particularly tricky.

I didn't know where to start.

_I didn't know where to begin with this mess._

The personal connection I had with this...thing was one thing that held me back from saying too much.

_From going against what I was required to do. _

After the sparse close-ups of details that required a hand to move something from obstructing that said detail, my hands were stripped of the gloves, and I fished out a pen and a pad of paper to jot down key points.

All while carefully crafting the details, nevertheless.

I dropped my things at the foot of the couch and collapsed into the soft cushions, letting out a long groan. The throbbing of my temples only seemed amplified in this moment of silence, my thoughts weighing down heavy on me. This was a big thing to deal with, alright.

Nothing that a small glass (or three) of Jack wouldn't cure, right?

_It's the weekend, hallelujah._ I'll celebrate however the hell I want, damn straight.

Lifting my head, after my temporary strength recovery, I got up from the couch and placed the things on the kitchen table that was illuminated by a single hanging light. The manilla folder stuck out of my purse, and as I plopped a few ice cubes in the glass a quarter full of alcohol, it hooked my attention once more.

Slowly pulling it from my bag, I sit down at the table and open it, leafing through the photographs that were printed out for my evaluation.

A small smile appeared on my face as I knew the real reason why Kasie gave these photos to me first, which was to assure they were up to quality before providing the images to the other investigators working on this case.

Who knew, even she could be insecure about the performance of her job. I get it, she's basically an intern at their disposal, and she wants to impress them.

A feeling of warmth blossomed across my chest as she thought of me as a close friend or someone she could consult.

She may even see me as a _motherly figure,_ better yet.

I leaf the photos across the cracked tabletop and take a sip of whiskey.

The body seemed even more grisly on a photo, unquestionably.

Numerous shots were close up to the woman's gnarled face. Several scars dragged across her features that formed puckered lines in her sullen skin. A picture of the mouth, gross, but what caught my attention was the close up of the woman's eyes.

Something that struck a sensitive cord indefinitely. It wasn't like we weren't aware of what we looked like, we all have clear memories of our past...including seeing our reflections.

This woman's dull, jaundiced-looking eyes were framed by sunken-in sockets, which was surrounded with a discolored, greenish skin that contrasted with her gray complexion.

The twisted visage of the woman was framed with brunette hair matted to her head with a faded, torn bow that kept her locks on the nape of her neck.

Not a lot is worth saying about the body, other than her incredibly lithe and decomposing muscular frame.

Those questions resurfaced in my head, I shook my head in disbelief at the state of her body. It seemed to have little trauma on the rest of her person other than the face and a festering gunshot wound to the heart. The skin was stained with blood around the area, the veins were dark and branching away from the opening. It was impossible, how a body could be preserved this well, underwater, for 60 years. It's not material.

I chose not to look at the autopsy evaluation that was included, though there was a note of details from the operation that Kasie scribbled on a sticky note.

_'Strange Observation #7 from autopsy: Sea slug found in her stomach, was leaking some sort of gross red liquid. Wasn't blood, didn't smell like it.'_

With a sigh, I re-organized the pictures, closed the folder, and poured myself another glass of whiskey.

* * *

hi! rtr here! sorry for not updating in a while. i've been traveling and i have the energy sucked out of me lol, but don't worry! i already have the basic plot points written down in my notes so i can follow them without having to remember what i was going to write. i hope to have a consistent updating schedule (haha no that wont happen) and school is starting soon, so i also hope to write out the rest of this planned story before i get busy. i actually might write it all and then stagger release them, which would cause a little bit of a hiatus for me since i'd be writing those. anyways, feel free to review, constructive criticism is encouraged! have a blessed day and papa bless!

-rtr


	4. Part Four

**_"You will not believe me, but there was a time when this was all so beautiful..." -Brigid Tenenbaum_**

**_Part Four - Wine_**

* * *

_"What is it?"_

_"Shh!"_

_The air whispered with the thrillingly mischevious, hushed giggles of the brood of little girls. _

_"We're not supposed to be in here, Miss Tenenbaum will be mad at us," one of the young little girls whispered. "We're not s'posed to."_

_"She's gonna find out if you keep talking," one of the older former Gatherers warned quietly. "Now hush!"_

_With a discouraged look, the little girl remained silent. Despite this expression, her eyes seemed fixated on the wooden box before them on the ground, no bigger than one that could fit a pair of shoes. Slowly lifting the splintery lid of the container, the older few that seemed to lead the group leaned over to let the scattered light illuminate the contents._

_"What is it?" Another little girl peered closely at the box._

_"I dunno, but we'll see," one of the elder girls said. "Be quiet, and I'll open it."_

_ A troubled frown and a whimper were heard from the girl. Despite this crestfallen expression, her eyes remained fixated on the box. As the older girl lifted the splintery lid, they all marveled at the contents: a cookie tin and a crumpled, brown paper bag rolled up tightly with the bottom bulging out with something. There was writing scrawled across the bag; however, due to the condition of the ratty item, it was illegible. _

_A girl poked her head between the torsos of two other girls, appearing to be one of the youngest at five years old. "C' mon, I wanna see," she whined. _

_"I'll open it," a girl, appearing to be ten years old, replied impatiently and unrolled the bag. She stuck her hand in the thing and fished out some of its contents: hastily cut patches of fabric. The trio that was fished out and held between the girl's fingers seemed to vastly vary in some form- one was thin, another was thick, and the third was fuzzy. "Patches of...something?"_

_"Dresses! We're gonna be pretty!" A young girl cheerfully exclaimed, the rest of the group hushing her. She covered her mouth._

_"Cookies," another girl happily- albeit quietly- proclaimed and lifted the lid to the cookie tin. Much to her dismay and bemusement, it was full of buttons, needles, and thread. These indeed were not cookies as the girls momentarily expected._

_The five-year-old girl managed to squeeze herself through the two and plucked a pair of big yellow buttons from the pile. While holding them up to her eyes, she grinned, causing the other younger group of girls to snicker as well. "Rose Mary, look!"_

_Rose Mary, being the second oldest (being nine years old, older by some by a month as she feels the need to mention), took her duty of watching over the younger ones very seriously. Quickly noting the glint of metal from a needle hanging from the button (dangerously close to the girl's palm), she gently took the buttons from her and put them back in the tin. The girl seemed disappointed, but the girl offered a comforting smile to her. "We can look at these later, Miss Tenenbaum will-"_

_"Miss Tenenbaum will gladly show you more of what she has collected in the morning," the thick German timbre of a woman's weary, yet warm voice was heard from behind the nine little girls. All in unison, the girls turned in surprised horror at the woman, guilty of being caught in the act. Much to the elder girls' surprise, however, she did not seem cross. In fact, one could note amusement written across her weary features._

_"I'm sorry, Miss Tenenbaum," the youngest girl began to helplessly cry, overwhelmed by the sudden guilt she felt. The couple other girls gathered around to comfort her but looked up at Brigid with the same guilty, sad expression. The older former gatherers, however, stood up and looked down and fidgeted with their tattered skirts shamefully._

_The woman's expression softened as she knelt down in front of the weeping little girl and wiped away a streak of tears with her thumb. "Fear not, little ones, I am not angry. Please do not feel ashamed."_

_"But we did something we weren't supposed to," Rose Mary said while avoiding looking up at Brigid. "I'm-...We're sorry, Miss Tenenbaum."_

_"There is no need for an apology. Perhaps it was something I wanted you to find," the geneticist got to her feet after comforting the guilty young ones. "You may look up at me. There is no need to hide your face."_

_The four elder girls looked up, though uncomfortably. _

_"Do you know why I brought this here?"_

_They shake their heads._

_"Take a look at your dresses, little ones," Brigid replaces the lid on the box and picks it up. "Tomorrow I will attempt to mend your dresses, so they don't look as...tattered. They will look pretty again."_

_The younger girls seemed to be excited at the notion of their raggedy garments becoming 'pretty' once more, while the four smiled. _

_"Thank you, M-Miss Tenenbaum," Rose Mary offered a shy smile while fidgeting with a loose seam._

_With a faint smile appearing on the woman's face, she nods. "It is one way to make yourselves feel comfortable down here, as you can tell, the conditions are not the best. It is all we have, however."_

_"Can you tell us a story, please?" The younger ones begged her. _

_"Perhaps, I will. If you lot are in bed in two minutes, I will tell you a story."_

* * *

_Clink, Pour, Glug glug glug._

"Thank you," an utterance left my lips as I absentmindedly swirled the dark liquid in the delicate glass, scanning over the photos and notes that Miss Tenenbaum left. When I took a sip and, to my surprise, felt the smoothest, I've ever experienced go down my throat. Viewing the glass, I cocked a brow, "Damn, this ain't no Two-Buck-Chuck, is it?"

"I am a wine connoisseur, after all, don't you know that?" Anne smirked and set the bottle down on the table. Judy and Diane both observed the bottle while seemingly enchanted by the taste of it, both of their eyebrows raising in surprise.

"What is it?" I curiously questioned as I continued sifting through information from a dusty old plastic tub.

"Margerum Syrah," Anne nonchalantly responded. It seemed the three of us- Diana, Judy and I, all choked on our mouthful of wine.

Diana looked up at Anne as if she had seen a ghost, "You mean this is expensive wine?!"

"Yeah? This is a celebration, isn't it?"

"No! You've gotta save it for something _better_ than looking through old things and finding some semblance of info, which we might not even find!"

"Hey, I'm tryin' my best over 'ere!" I eyed the two warily while raising the glass to my lips. "It ain't easy drinking on the job either."

Judy sighed. "Fine, I'll help," she scooted over and placed the wine glass on the television stand, crossing her legs and taking out another binder of the lore left by Tenenbaum.

As idle chatter amongst us transitioned from subject to subject while we worked, the minutes seemed to slip away as well. Hours, even, we didn't really keep track of time. Who does in these situations?

Dinner was had, we ate while we worked. While the other three were in the kitchen washing the dishes and putting them away, I seemed to strike a gold vein.

All it took was a single photo, with a date and location; Miss Tenenbaum and Eleanor in front of a house, circa 1969. The name of a place was scribbled and faded, though able to be made out if studied close enough.

Pushing my reading glasses further up my nose, I lifted the photo and studied the writing carefully.

Whitban...no. Whitby. North...North Yorkshire. England! Whitby, North Yorkshire, England!

"Laptop, someone get me the laptop!" My eyes didn't leave the image as I studied the details of it. Catching the attention of at least of the girls, Diana, who quickly dried off her hands and hastily shuffled over to deliver the laptop.

Despite the sudden anxious, thrilled tensity that filled the air, I felt a wash of sadness over my heart while studying Miss Tenenbaum's face.

God, I really did miss that woman.

The mental conditioning eventually wore off for the most part- we learned to accept Tenenbaum as a motherly figure. Though, peculiarly, I still found-...no, _find_ it hard to call her 'mama' as the other former Gatherers did. We grew up motherless during the time of that sea slug inhabiting our bodies, and we were taught to reject motherly figures; to see them as a taboo.

Now that we lived on the surface, we realized that it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

She was really great. Really, she was.

Clearing my throat of the rising lump of sorrow, I took another large swig of wine and grabbed the laptop from Diana's extending arms as she reached over the coffee table to hand it to me.

Through all my years of living on Earth, these recent ones have certainly been peculiar. Who knew that, in a few clicks, you could find out where someone lives, and know everything about them.

Scary but useful; Indeed an invasion of privacy, and it surely did not go down unknown by the other four girls. Truth be told, I was scared as well. All this terrorist and cyber-terrorist stuff really can get to your head, primarily if you work for the government.

You learn to immunize yourself to it though...for the most part. For me, at least.

"Alright, I think I got a number," I reached for the cell phone and dialed up the number that was presented to me, attached to the name 'Ms. Eleanor Lamb', uncaring of the extra charges that would be applied to my phone bill for calling internationally.

When it comes to sorting out your past, any money is worth putting down for it.

"Can't you just search her up on Facebook or something?" Judy offhandedly questioned as she poured herself another glass.

I looked up from my screen, a brow lofting inquisitively at her. "D'you think that someone that's in our situation would wanna be out there?"

"Just a thought," Judy responded, "Doesn't hurt to try."

The number was dialed and almost immediately answered...a man was on the other line.

I inquired for a 'Miss Eleanor Lamb,' but he seemed to not know who that was, maybe a misdial or a past owner of the number, as the man suggested.

With a sigh I agree and hang up the phone, begrudgingly searching her up on the internet.

Damn it, Judy was right! She did have a social media profile and was easy to trace.

"Peculiar," an offhanded observance came from me as I zoomed in on the picture she posted very recently. The other three looked over my shoulder as I moved to other details in the image of hers. Now, with my mind working mechanically, I pull up housing market websites and cross-referenced the interior to the old photo's address to the present house that was also in that same spot, same address. The post with the picture checks out too, save for a different shade of ivory on the walls.

"What are you doing?" Anne queried, "You're...looking at houses?"

"Cross-referencing," I respond without a second thought, frequently switching between tabs to assure what I'm looking at is the real deal.

"Well I'll be darned," Diana said, impressed. "You're like a young person with technology. What are they called? The eGenners?"

"Gen Z is what they call 'em," Judy corrected. "Smart things they are...I wouldn't ever be able to do something like this."

"You observe a lot of things when you work with young people," I could feel a sly smirk creep across my face. I had to admit, it was pretty funny hearing them talk like old ladies.

Well, we are, but you get what I mean.

A quick few reverse searches and we've got a number.

Just like that.

If I'm honest, I was kinda surprised too.

_"Hello? Miss Eleanor Lamb? Yes, my name's Julie Wynand."_

* * *

England was a first for me.

I know that Anne and Judy took a class trip to Paris and England. Out of all the places I've been, I haven't been...here. In England. It seemed nice so far, even sweeter to be invited out here.

"It feels like yesterday I was just in England, I forgot how charming it really is once you get out of the big cities," Anne took in a deep breath of damp, rainy air and exhaled.

"Yeah yeah, we get it, you went on that stupid class trip," Diana muttered and gestured dismissively. I concealed my laugh with a clear of my throat and bit my lip to not smile.

Honestly, it did feel like it was yesterday that the two got the acceptance letter to go and we didn't. We always held a grudge about it, which eventually evolved into a lighthearted joke...though sometimes it is provoked to get a rise out of Diana.

"Well, we're here now, aren't we?" Judy smiled over at the three of us. "Let's enjoy our time here, alright? This is probably, like, a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

The tension quickly dissipated between us, luckily. I'm not one for starting out trips in the wrong way.

"Thank you for the lift- er, the drive," Judy courteously nodded to the redheaded man that retrieved our luggage from the trunk of the car. He studied the faces of the women before offering a polite nod. She dug around in her purse for her wallet, "How much will it be?"

"Worry not," the man spoke primly. Upon further inspection, this guy had prim posture...something seemed off about him; especially with what he spoke next. "The fare has been paid for prior to your trip."

"I-I'm sorry?" Judy paused as she furrowed a brow in confusion, looking over at the three of us, which we responded with a clueless expression. We seemed to be equally as confused as she was at this point. A kind gesture, maybe?

Hopefully.

"It has been paid for, consider it a gift from us."

"I don't understand-"

"Some things are not worth understanding, it is better just to just _accept_ them." The man offered a forced smile before turning to go back to the car. Without another word, he peeled off, leaving us standing clueless at the curb of the house.

Okay...maybe this trip did start off with something weird. Whatever.

"_Ah, the Wynands!_" A woman's delighted voice was heard from behind us. "Come, come! I've been waiting anxiously for you lot! Welcome in!"

* * *

_well would u look at that, i actually updated this story_

_hi guys sorry for the delayed update lmao. school's back in session and i didn't have any time (jk i had no motivation) to write, but it's the weekend so here i am, writing away!_

_i plan one more chapter to this installment then it'll be DONE. thank goodness! this is my first real fic that i've actually planned out to be finished, so that's kinda neat. this doesn't mean that i won't ever upload again however! usually i'm kinda shy with my writing and i don't like sharing it, but this really put my out of my comfort zone (and that's good!) so hopefully i can muster up the courage to write some more, bioshock or not. :^)_

_let me know what you think about this story and, as always, leave constructive criticism in the reviews. see a lore inconsistency? point it out! i'm not entirely great on the lore though i do have a general understanding of it, so hopefully i was able to make it okay without making anything flawed. if there is something, i'll edit it and make a note at the bottom here._

_i'm not sure when the final chapter will be released here, hopefully soon! honestly just depends on when i get it done. schedule? don't know her_

_stay safe guys and thanks so much for sticking with me :) i really appreciate it! _

_-rtr_


	5. Part Five

_**"When Mum and Dad put me on that plane to visit my cousins in England, they told me, 'Son, you're special, you were born to do great things.' You know what? They were right." -Jack**_

**Part Five - Through Hell and High Water**

* * *

_"I must go back."_

_"You're gonna get killed!"_

_"There are innocent lives down there that must be saved, Jack."_

_The sound of a fervent exchange between Tenenbaum and Jack was audible from downstairs...This was very unusual. Of course, naturally, it attracted the curious nature of the girls that were supposed to be in bed half an hour ago._

_The five crept outside their rooms and moved to sit at the upper ledge to watch the two talking in the kitchen. Rose Mary loosely gripped the bars of the railing; Dianne fought to keep her eyes open and frequently lifted her head to catch herself from falling asleep. The other girls listened attentively at the exchange. Not one made a sound, all motionless in anticipation with their eyes glued to the two adults downstairs._

_"I don't get it, Tenenbaum," Jack apprehensively ran a hand through his hair; he did not once make an attempt to meet her eyes._

_The geneticist rounded the dining table to lean over and look him in the eye. "You must let me do this, for the sake of those little girls trapped down there."_

_A long, contemplative silence settled between the two._

_"I do not understand why you are tense upon the notion of me returning to Rapture," the woman persisted after some long moments._

_Jack massaged his palm with his thumb. He didn't respond._

_"Jack."_

_The man looked up at her, though still struggling to find the courage to establish eye contact. "Brigid, don't you realize how your 'Little Ones' are gonna react to this, do you?"_

_Tenenbaum folded her arms against her abdomen, now it was her turn to silently stare at him._

_"Answer me, woman."_

_"I cannot."_

_Jack finally met her eyes with an incredulously weary expression. "What do you mean you can't?"_

_"You heard me," Tenenbaum sharply answered, "Perhaps this is not enough. Perhaps it is my moral obligation to go down there to save those kidnapped girls as well."_

_The man shook his head and rose to his feet, brushing past her into the kitchen. "Nothing is enough for you, is it?"_

_"You understand full and well why I do what I do, why I care for my little ones."_

_Jack leaned against the counter and watched out the kitchen window. The moonlight illuminated the ocean and the land around it...everything seemed peaceful; It put on a facade of all good in the world._

_He had nothing else to say to her at the moment._

_The defeated expression of the man seemed to soften Tenenbaum's own appearance. She moved to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder awkwardly, albeit somewhat tenderly._

_The woman opened her mouth to hesitantly speak, though no sound came out. She closed her mouth once more and turned to watch out the window as well at the waves crashing against the rocky shore below._

_"You must realize that this is a duty of mine."_

_Jack questioned, "A moral duty?"_

_"Precisely," Tenenbaum nodded, "You are still young enough to remain unlettered of the plights of the surface and the burdens people carry...I wish I could be here to guide you through it."_

_A deep sigh emerged from Jack, "What will I do?"_

_"You will manage." A small smile appeared on the woman's lips, "You are smart, you will find your way without me."_

_"You're talking like you're gonna die."_

_"I very well might. I speak of returning to Rapture, it is a great possibility."_

_Suddenly, Tenenbaum was constricted with the arms of the man, his head buried in her shoulder. The height difference created an awkward scene as he was nearly hunched over to meet her height. __Apprehensively, she patted his back as he tightly held her with a blank expression. The girls above silently giggled as they watched._

_The words muffled through her shoulder, "Please don't leave, I can't do this."_

_The woman managed to pull him off of her. "You must. You and I will eventually perish from the face of the Earth, and the little ones must learn how to fend for themselves."_

_"You-"_

_Tenenbaum promptly hushed him by holding up a single finger, "Shh."_

_Upon being spotted, the girls scattered and attempted to scramble back to their rooms without any repercussions._

_The woman sighed. "Please come down, my little ones."_

_The nightgown-clad girls descended the stairs and meekly stood at the archway to the kitchen with guilt written across their faces._

_Rose Mary, knowing she did something she wasn't allowed to do, lowered her head in shame. "We're sorry for listening to your private conversation, Mama Tenenbaum."_

_The geneticist knelt in front of the girl and placed a calloused hand on her cheek. "There is nothing to be ashamed of, little one. Come, Jack and I will fetch glasses of warm milk for you lot...There is something we must discuss as a family."_

_As a family._

_Anne hopped onto a chair and scooted up to the polished wooden tabletop. Swinging her dangling feet in blissful, childlike ignorance, she traced her finger along the lines that composed the several layers of wood from the tree that it was cut down from._

_Tenenbaum sat down with the girls as Jack drew the glasses of milk and heated them with a hand while delivering it to the children. Once the task was finished, he also took a seat beside Tenenbaum._

_"We must talk about something, little ones. It is something of a serious matter-" the woman paused and looked at him, before resuming, "-I will be going away for a while."_

* * *

Eleanor carefully took the wine bottle presented to her by Anne, "What a delightful surprise, thank you!"

"It was the least we could do for you accepting us into your home," Anne warmly responded. "I think this is a moment worth celebrating...I'll grab us some glasses."

"Come to think," Eleanor shook her head in euphoric disbelief, "We all are connected by a single aspect."

I smirked, "Being genetic freaks?"

"Julie!" Judy swatted my arm gently.

"But that is true, we truly are-...were, genetic anomalies," The British woman intricately answered. "Your stories are truly remarkable."

"We'd like to think so," Diane humbly comments. "From what we've heard, I think yours trumps ours though."

Yeah, 'genetic anomalies' is a pretty good way to put it. I don't think that anyone else besides the population of girls used as Gatherers ever had a big ol' slug in their stomachs.

The rounds of quiet 'thank-you's were uttered as Anne passed out each glass of wine to us.

I curiously listened to what Lamb had to say with her time down there. "So, what else do you know about these 'Big Sisters?'"

"Horrendous things, I was raised to become of them as well," Eleanor motioned to her lithe, aged frame. "You may be able to tell that it hasn't done the best for me aesthetically in recent years."

Diane asserted, "I don't think you look a day over thirty!"

Eleanor chortled, "I appreciate the thought, dear."

Really, she was in better shape than the rest of us. Maybe because of her genetically predisposed condition...but I digress. She seemed so world-weary, wise, despite being a number younger than us.

To be fair, her stories of Rapture indeed did remind us of the haunting experience down in that God-awful city. Those Big Sisters...ugh. Though, peculiar, they did sound exactly like the one we found.

We discussed the probability of one surviving to this day.

"It...is not likely." Eleanor paused for a moment to think.

I inquired with a confused furrowed brow, "I mean, they age normally...right?"

"Not exactly," Lamb responded carefully, "I was not like them. It'd possible that they'd be in sparse numbers, say, in the 1980s. But now," she shook her head, "Impossible. With the state of the city now...they would have all been killed by the elements."

Well, that's just peachy...this got _a lot_ more complicated.

"It's gotta be hard thinking about it, I mean, weren't they _sisters_ to you essentially?" Judy melancholically, yet respectfully, inquired Eleanor.

The woman shook her head, "No, not anymore. They were sisters to me when we were Gatherers, but they grew into feral creatures, and I lost the relatability to them. I mourn for the state they became, but I do not mourn their deaths."

I went to take the folder from my bag and dropped it on the coffee table. "You may want to take a look at these."

Eleanor placed down her glass on a coaster and picked up the folder. Her expression had gotten increasingly concerned at the photographs of the Sister as she flipped through them. She utters, "Father...how is this possible?"

Talking to herself? Huh?

"Uh- apologies, I tend to do that," Eleanor said with slight embarrassment. "It is...a long story."

"We have time," Judy answered, "Anything you say won't be doubted...I think anything that is said here won't be doubted, given our pasts."

When I heard the explanation from her, with her father's 'consciousness' was basically injected into her, I almost didn't want to believe it. She went about it quite bluntly, I'll say; nothing was really 'carefully' put about as she's talked like before. Eleanor went straight to the point: her protector when she was a Gatherer, _her father,_ had his consciousness injected into her when he was dying. She also said something about having some sort of psychological connection with him...I was kinda lost at that part. I was too busy trying to fathom the concept of consciousness being dumped into someone.

Now _that_ was pretty outlandish.

"He thinks you lot are just as interesting as I am," Eleanor said with a smile glimmering on her lips.

The others seemed to accept it pretty well, however, and began to curiously ask questions to him through Eleanor.

Judy curiously asks, "How did it happen? What...or, how, was it possible?"

The frail woman paused in contemplative silence, it seemed almost as if she was listening for something. She sighs and shakes her head. "He gave me quite a complicated answer...I do not quite know how to verbally explain it. His consciousness was extracted by me."

"Does he talk to you?"

"In a sense, yes," Eleanor nods, "When you think of something, do you hear a silent voice tell you that thought?"

We stared at her for a moment, honestly, unsure of how to answer.

I need another drink.

"I'll take that as a yes," the British woman smirks in amusement. "He silently speaks thoughts in my mind...but I never hear his voice. I'll admit," she looked down at her glass with knitted brows, "It certainly was a challenge at first. The human mind is not supposed to have more than your own voice in your head, or it will get confused...at least from my experience. I have learned to decipher his stream of consciousness from my own thoughts."

"So kinda like your guardian angel?"

"Exactly."

"What was it like...? Learning how to get acquainted with the surface world? It was probably harder for you than it was for us since we were so little." Anne adjusts her sitting position.

A bittersweet expression briefly crossed Eleanor's features before continuing, "It...certainly was. I was glad to have my mother assist me with the cultural and social habits of society up here. It certainly was not easy being different than the other girls, I'll tell you that."

Diane re-crosses her legs, now her left leg over her right. "Physically?"

"Physically, yes, but also socially."

"Your mother was Sofia Lamb, right?" A quick swat of Judy's arm from Diane. "Uh- sorry. If that's too personal you don't have to-"

"No question is too sensitive for me," Eleanor offered a comforting smile. "My mother was, well," she faltered, "Not...a good person. I chose to give her a second chance. People truly can change if given a second chance, you know."

"Good to hear. I bet it would have been impossible without a mother's guidance."

"That you are right," Eleanor agrees.

I get up from my seat on the sofa and announce, "Anyone else who needs another pour?"

The women before me silently shook their head and politely uttered varied forms of 'no thank you.'

Just me? Alrighty then. More for me.

Shuffling to the kitchen, I check on the soup that was slowly simmering in a copper pot on the stove. Whatever she made smelled _good;_ I, for one, wanted to try it.

Pop, clink, pour.

The quiet mewing brought me out of my rushed thoughts. A fluffy gray cat hopped off the top of the cabinets to the kitchen tile. He looked up at me expectantly, the puffed tail swishing side to side, and rubbed against the bottom of my leg.

"Hey little buddy," I knelt down to rub him behind the ears and stroke his back. The small bell hooked to the collar jingled as he shook his head and moved it further into my hand.

A vibration emitted from the chest of the feline as he purred and leaned against me, requesting more petting. I curiously look at the small tag attached to the bell.

"Delta, huh? Interesting name...I wonder where she got that from."

I get to my feet and shove the cork into the bottle and set it aside. Taking a large swig of the sweet wine, I make my way to my place once more, only to be stopped by the doorbell.

"Don't worry, I'll get it, you all stay put." I set down the glass and approached the door down the corridor. Delta sat directly in front of the door facing me.

Okay, a bit weird.

I gently moved him out of the way with my foot and unlocked the set of locks. They say that cats can detect entities that aren't human, I honestly believed it to be a bunch of bullshit made up by some drugged-out hippies.

That belief of mine was about to be tested.

I peer through the stained glass that made up the ornate door window and notice two figures dressed in black raincoats. Opening the door I hold the cat back with a foot, feeling the gust of the cold and rainy air hit me full on.

A ginger man and a woman, seemingly near-identically looking. Okay, a bit strange, other than being ginger.

"Miss Julie Wynand?"

"Uh," I glance over my shoulder down the corridor where the four, in blissful ignorance, continued to happily chat away with each other. "Who's asking?"

"Us," the lady primly remarked. "We are asking for you."

My arms fold and a brow lofts suspiciously, "Alright, what is it? Who sent you and Taxi Driver over here?"

"Taxi-" she looks over to her counterpart before shaking her head and continuing, "We are here on our own accord, Miss Wynand."

"Might I ask why?" An anxious feeling was rising from deep within my gut, something seemed _very _off about the two. Probably because my knowledge of gingers like them being up to no good, but I don't remember any British people working on this investigation along with me. Some gingers are freakin' weird; These two were really no exception.

You can probably tell I'm not fond of gingers.

The man extended a simple wooden box to me, vaguely ornate and closed tightly with a metal latch. It kind of looked like it was hastily made, a few jagged ends here and there, sides not sanded down properly with splinters sticking out the surface.

Delta, the cat, hisses and his hackles fluff up at the sight of the two. The woman looks down at the cat scornfully.

Miss Tenenbaum and Jack always taught us not to take things from strangers, always wanting to protect us at every turn they can. This lesson was drilled into our heads as soon as he hit the surface. Do not talk to strangers, do not take things from strangers, and do not go places with strangers; They seemed like the three cardinal rules, really. Of course, as life went on, we were forced to talk and go places with strangers. Come to think about it, I never really took things from strangers.

I catch myself staring at the box like a hungry dog, the two remaining unamused. Something in me ignited...a sort of gravitation to the box as if something was luring me. I shook my head, "What's in it?"

"Open it, and you will find out," she responds.

A sudden urge came over me to snatch it from her.

Okay. Gently taking the box from the woman's cold hands, I flick open the latch and open the top.

My instincts were right, they really _were_ up to no good. Feeling my heart nearly drop to the floor upon looking at it, I closed the lid quickly. I heard myself demand, "How the hell did you get this?"

"Security systems are faulty to those who get around," the man dismissively remarked.

The lady responds fluidly after him, "They all have flaws, especially one in common."

"They are unable to detect us."

I scoff, "What are you, some criminal masterminds then?"

"No. We possess the ability to manipulate reality in such a way that your 'motion sensors' will not detect us."

Okay, they're definitely nefarious, even down to how they talk after one another. That's just plain eerie, nothing else to it.

"I don't understand," my gaze shifts down to the box then back up to them.

"The average mind is incapable of fathoming what our state of being is, I am not surprised she is unable to understand," he uttered to his counterpart. The woman hummed in agreement.

"I'll have you know that you have stolen property that's being curated by the department of the NCIS. This should be returned, and you two will be the first ones described in the report." I threatened them as sternly as I could; in all honesty, it was not much, something made me damn near terrified about these two.

"I would not do that," she tutted. "It will only collapse after you."

I considered my options...though I felt a strong urge to keep this box and the container of ADAM with it. Something in my mind screamed at me to keep it hidden, locked away, at the bottom of Tenenbaum's bin where she kept all the information and evidence of Rapture she has collected.

I knew it was wrong. _Really_ wrong to not to report this. Something that I'd have to live with for the rest of my life. I'm not the best person in the world, but I'm not one to commit a crime of this magnitude.

"To be involved in secrecy is something that comes with responsibilities such as this. This must be under the table, in layman terms. Your other," the lady inclined her head to peer over my shoulder, "Friends, mustn't know."

"Siblings," I uttered and attempted to close the door on them. In hindsight, that was probably the dumbest thing that came from my mouth in a while. Whatever those two were up to, I hope they won't involve them now.

A foot sharply stopped the door from further closing. "You must be wondering what of that genetic mutation of a female, oh, what is it called..."

"A 'Big Sister,' as some refer to?"

"Precisely."

My brows lowered in a glare, "Are you two involved with that thing washing ashore? Did you murder an innocent girl and stuff her in that suit?!"

"Oh, heavens no," the two, in perfect unison, disdainfully remarked.

"We would never commit such an abhorrent act," she defensively snapped.

I prodded the two, "Then why do you know so much about it?"

"You saw the autopsy, that was no common girl."

"It is wise to think before you speak, Miss Wynand."

Some haughty attitude is also a part of their facade it seemed.

"I think you two should be going."

"We leave you with one question, Miss Wynand."

My arms wrapped around the box and hugged it against my chest protectively. "Oh yeah, what's that?"

"If time rots everything,"

The man finishes, "Why did the body not?"

My patience got a _little bit too_ thin at this point. "Get to the damn point," I demanded.

The woman leaned towards me and lowered her voice, "Everything is not what it seems, Miss Wynand, do not take it at face value."

Before another word could be put in by me, a clap of thunder sent a shudder through the structure. A flash of nearby lightning seemed to nearly blind me and caused the electricity to go out momentarily. As soon as my vision returned a second after the lights also returned, and the pair vanished. I leaned over the porch and checked the sides to see if they stepped out of the way...no where to be seen, to my shock.

Okay, I think I need a little bit of sleep after this.

Another drink too.

With the rain blowing in the entrance to Eleanor's home, I quickly shut the door and scampered upstairs to hide this _gift_ in my suitcase before making my return to the living room.

"Some storm, huh?" Dianne lifted her head in acknowledgment to me. "Hope you didn't get shocked by lightning."

I playfully sneered at my sister, "I wish I were. The opportunity was definitely stolen from me." Reclaiming my spot on the sofa, tucking my legs under me, I reach out for my glass.

"As you were saying? Sorry," I glance in the direction of the corridor, "I might've gotten your welcome rug a bit wet."

Eleanor offered a smile, "No worries, it has certainly seen much worse. Who was at the door?"

"Just someone with the wrong house address," the words left my lips without a second thought. "Alright, questions, questions."

"I shall answer," responded her.

A lot of stuff was learned that night.

Not a wink of sleep was had.


	6. Part Six

**_"There's two ways to deal with mystery: uncover it, or eliminate it." -Andrew Ryan_**

**_Part Six - Discovery_**

* * *

"We need you back here right now."

That was the sentence that got me to come back a week early from our trip to England. Kasie'd been vague about the reason for me to get back but insisted it was urgent. Knowing her, it probably was.

My speculations were proven to be true when a supervisor notified me that something needed my eyes before making any further advances in the investigation.

Alright, let's go back...a week early of my time; Vacation days I'd already taken off for. I'd better get those returned to me soon! Kasie picked me up from the airport as Diane instructed me to keep the truck at the airport for them to drive home. Alright, whatever floats your boat, it's money comin' out of your pocket for the daily parking fee. Those add up fast!

"Sorry to ruin the vacation of yours," the young intern smiled in embarrassment. "You can probably get away with playing hooky after today, you're still down on the calendar as gone."

"Knew it," With a roll of my eyes, I leaned my head back on the headrest and rubbed my weary temples. "Even after telling them to mark me off, and being confirmed that I was...Just as dysfunctional as I remember, huh?"

Kasie shrugged with uncertainty, "I wouldn't say that...they're just..."

"Functioning differently? It's alright, sweetie, we all know the receptionists don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying their best...despite doing this a few times before."

There was a pause of silence between us as she sped up on the onramp (in terrifyingly quick time, might I add) to merge onto the freeway. The only sounds that occupied the air were the rapid sputtering of her engine and the faint background sound of radio music...something popular probably. Never really kept up with that the kids listened to these days.

"I hope you had a good time there, at least," Kasie meekly interjected through the verbally silenced atmosphere between us. "Sorry if I kinda cut that short."

"If something's important enough to call to _my_ attention, then it probably's gonna be significant; No big deal." Despite the ragged sensation of fatigue overcoming me on the drive back, I offered a smile to the embarrassed girl. It was the least I could do; that really was out of her control, she's really just the messenger. You shouldn't ever shoot the messenger. "At least I got a week's worth in."

"Is it really as pretty as people say?"

"The English countryside?" Kasie nods to my question. "Eleanor took us on a leisurely drive, and we stopped a few places...I'd say it's definitely a change of pace from here- so yes, it is nice. Pretty refreshing...you don't really see that stuff around these parts here."

The young woman wistfully gazed forward at the road. "I wish I could visit outside of the country...one day. One day I will."

I lifted my head from the headrest and looked at her, quizzically, "Wait, you mean you've never left the United States?"

She shook her head, "I don't even own a passport."

"You said your father was in the Air Force...you never went overseas?"

"All US assignments...for whatever reason. You'd think I would."

I fell short of words for a moment and slowly leaned back into the seat. Honestly, I was a bit caught off guard by her statement. Maybe it's because I never really had any friends that were _in_ the military, or grew up around it, but you'd think with the current state of affairs...nevermind.

More silence, she turned to exit from the highway. The plastic ticking of the turn signal seemed to filter out of my brain for a while; she cursed as someone wouldn't let her over to the far lane to exit the freeway. "Damn it! Come on!"

She missed the exit and offered an apologetic look on her face, though she never looked over at me. Even though she's a kind of scary driver, I can _at least_ respect the fact that she keeps her eyes on the road. Far too many times have I seen kids like her take her eyes off of the drive for something...and end up horribly. I was on the receiving end of that horrible result several years ago; I can only thank God for surviving that.

Kasie cleared her throat awkwardly as she finally managed to pass into the lane needed to exit. "S-Sorry for that outburst."

"I've heard worse," I dismissively responded in an attempt to make things less..._awkward._

She nods, "Right. so," an attempt to change the subject, "Got any souvenirs?"

I shrugged halfheartedly. "I got a magnet at the airport."

The young woman sighs and shakes her head, "No! Like...any rocks? From the countryside?"

"What do I look like, a geologist? No, I didn't...though one of my sibs probably will take some home." A cold sweat swept over the back of my neck upon remembering _the box_, sitting in my luggage, safely tucked away and padded with clothes and a pillow.

The box with the thing that turned us into, well, us; The very item that led us to the lives we live right now. To be fair, it's a bit hard to fathom that my sisters and I were raised by a geneticist and a genetically engineered man- that was made the way he was by the geneticist. In short words, Tenenbaum created our destiny. Kind of big to wrap your head around, if you think about it.

I sometimes wish that Jack was here so we could just...talk. Talk about life. Though he usually was a man of simple words, if you got him going, he really could talk your ear off. A conversation could be held for _hours_ on end when he talks about things that interest him. Maybe he really only had Tenenbaum and us to talk to?

"Doesn't a sister of yours like to collect rocks?"

"Yeah," I acknowledged, "She likes to collect 'em and put the rocks in a makeshift fountain of hers. Amazing, if you saw it in person, you can probably find even a moon rock in there."

Kasie's eyes glittered with childlike bewilderment, "Really? She must have a big fountain then."

"Nah, not really. They're just small rocks in a black plastic tub with a pump that recycles water, which is in a firepit."

"Oh," she seemed to be somewhat disappointed. "Which sister did you say it was?"

"Rose Mary...now I'm stuck with the fountain."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

I dismissively gesture, "It's in the past. My sister lived a good life." As there was that damn silence again, the subject was quickly changed. "Give me info on what happened at the morgue."

The young brunette's grip tightened on the leather steering wheel as if to flex her fingers. "It was...uh...really bizarre. I don't think you'd believe it."

"Honey, bizarre is my middle name. Now, c'mon, spill it."

"Well..." She came to a gentle stop at a stop sign. Only giving a fleeting glance around at her surroundings to assure no one was waiting on her, she leaned back to dig out her cell phone. Quickly she queued up the pictures and handed it to me and continued on with driving. I carefully moved through the photographs; my eyes became increasingly narrowed while feebly attempting to make out the details.

"What am I looking at?"

"It-..." Kasie sighed and turned the phone, right side up. "It's upside down."

"Damn it," I uttered in frustration, "They need to make it obvious which side is the right side up."

Old woman things, apparently. Tech's getting newer, and I'm getting older...the two don't correlate very well.

It seemed to be a photograph of the suit's weapon lying on a shelf...I didn't see much wrong with it at first. "What's wrong with it?" Not so observant, apparently.

"That jar thingy is gone from the valve it was attached to. Someone broke in, and _stole_ it. I mean, who would do that?"

Really, who would do that?

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the realization reminded me that I had the very thing that was stolen _in my luggage bag_.

Playing along, I cleared my throat and moved through the pictures. "Why would anyone want it?"

"Who knows...probably for some stupid stunt or something."

Yeah, a stunt.

I made sure to get the briefing done as soon as I could so I could go home and comb-over everything that just happened within the past month.

"Let's get this show on the road," A deep and begrudged sigh escaped my chest as I took a seat at the conference table.

The two whom I've previously known, Kasie and my supervisor, were the only ones in the room along with me. The blinds were drawn, and the room was dark, and the only thing illuminated was the projector against the far wall with a blank black screen. Anxiety bubbled up in my gut...something I haven't felt since I was in high school. It felt like I was in trouble, but I wasn't.

This wasn't going to be pleasant, but was there really any way I could get myself out of it? This is _my_ case, so _I_ need to face the music whenever obstacles like this happen.

In all of my years working for the NCIS, mishaps have certainly happened in my cases I've taken on; I learned to become unfazed by them.

But this? This...this was different. A whole different beast.

This would be Kasie's first theft in a case...but certainly not my supervisor's.

Ah, my supervisor: Jameson Okafor. For someone that was a child of Nigerian immigrants, served in Iraq, _and_ chose this hellish job, I had a lot of respect for the man.

Kasie, on the other hand, came from an Oklahoma college on a scholarship of forensics. She was in the know, but not experienced enough to experience the_ real world_ things- the nitty-gritty. Poor thing is stuck with serving coffee to the detectives.

Okafor's thick frame rose from his chair to greet me with a handshake as I walked in. "Glad you could make it on such short notice, Julie."

The poor girl was intimidated by him, she clutched her files to her chest. "I already showed her a preemptive recap of what happened, Mister Okafor."

"Great, we're off to an easy start then...I won't need to explain things as much. Take a seat, won't you two?"

Exchanging glances as we took our seats, Kasie slowly placed the folders and slid them across the table. Jameson caught them and thumbed through them briefly before turning to his laptop and bringing up several images. As they were brought up, several files were too opened, as well.

The war-weathered man briefly skimmed over the notes jotted down and other things in the top folder. He clears his throat. "At about two-thirty o'clock on the third of October, the security cameras around the east part of C. L. Page Mortuary's building went offline for ten seconds all simultaneously."

Maybe just a glitch in the system, if anything.

He continues with his explanation, Kasie listening with her expression continually growing more attentive with each of his sentences. I glanced a few times at her, though she did seem quite interested. That's good, at least, that she has an interest in mystery, especially this kind of...thing. Anomaly, maybe? I don't even know anymore.

All I could think of during this time is the container of ADAM. Funny thing, how as much as a word can send a flash flood of memories to your brain, almost as if it was a trigger phrase. I can't speak for my sisters, but I can for myself at least; The memory of feeling and, uh, _tasting_ the stuff is still evident in my brain.

It was a viscous, slimy feeling- wet, but not liquid. Almost like it was gelatin- though from person to person, it varied between solidity. It seemed like Jell-O (which was practically impossible to get into the bottle through the needle) sometimes were more...watery other times. It was disgusting, now that I think about it, and I can't ever look at red gelatin the same again.

T_hat taste was unlike anything I've had, even to this day. Too unique for me to describe._

"Glitch?" I question Okafor with a cocked brow. "Happens all the time with our cameras, maybe just need to be fixed, loose wire probably."

He lifted a hand to pause my phrase, "Five minutes later, the Phillips Mortuary cameras went out too. Then Weston Mortuary's system was down thirty seconds later. Seeing the pattern?"

I shook my head slowly, combing over the possibilities in my head. "Hacking scheme?"

"All of the morgue camera systems in Jacksonville went down for some short amount of time on some part of the building...usually in the same area where the body drawers are." Kasie idly tapped her pen on a pad of paper as she was jotting down notes. "There's gotta be a pattern, right?"

"So," I sat back and exhaled, "What are we lookin' at here? A hack?"

"A theft," Okafor corrected, "Part of that suit was stolen, the robbers didn't leave a trace. Not sure how they got in and left without breaking and entering."

"Even getting past the security systems?" The idea seemed all too incredulous to me.

Kasie nods, "Security systems, too, yeah."

We spent the next small amount of time trying to figure out how this happened. Kasie proposed the theory of some twisted, sick teenagers deciding to try to vandalize the morgue...which was quickly shut down by Okafor. I tossed the thought in the air that we could be dealing with whoever 'murdered' the Big Sister, or a proxy of the murderer. A key piece of evidence could have solved the entire case...gone.

I felt that the damned nauseating feeling of guilt creep into my gut once more. _I had that evidence, tucked away, buried at the bottom of Tenenbaum's bin of 'artifacts'_. If they found out I had it...I could have some severe shit thrown on me.

No one really has to know, don't they? It's not like my house is gonna be raided by a SWAT team any time soon.

I cleared my throat and shifted my conscious back to the present in an attempt to fend off the invasive thoughts that entered my mind at the time.

"Someone really doesn't want to find out about the body it seems," I commented out loud. "Why not take something more important rather than just a jar of something?"

"They were prepping it to take a sample, the container was already off of whatever it was attached to." Kasie idly doodled in the margins of the paper.

"Well, ain't that the fault of the mortician then?"

"Partly, I guess, but they still stole it right from the holding container."

"Hmm," I idly hummed, and the room settled in contemplative silence. I sat forward in my chair and scooted up further to the polished conference table, "Show me whatever you got from the cameras."

A series of images was brought up, not as much video footage as I thought...except one four-second clip. They all weren't the highest definition; though this was a security camera we're talking about, nothing is ever high definition for heavy-duty corporate cameras like those. Not yet, at least. These models were a bit outdated, to say in the least.

The first image was the ADAM in the suit's container on the counter. It sat in a box, which the lid was open, almost as if it was about to be shipped off to some lab for analyzation.

"What kind of idiot just leaves it out here?"

"Detective Wynand," Okafor looked at me in a warning.

"Sorry."

"We, however, don't know why the mortician left it out. Merely human error."

Another image of the same thing, though now, the ADAM was being lifted from the box.

"Hold on," I lift my hand for him to pause from going to the next picture, leaning forward further, I slip my reading glasses from my pocket and put them on to see better. "Get closer on the hand."

The action was done upon my request. I squint to make out the details of the hand, spotting material wrinkles and the rolled down rim of a latex glove on the man's wrist, just barely peeking out from the sleeve of his blazer. "He's wearing a glove," I nearly catch myself from saying 'they're,' as in referring to his counterpart as well. "Looks like a regular sanitary glove."

"Latex, probably. Either brought their own or took it from the morgue's supply."

Kasie scoffs halfheartedly, "Imagine not bringing your own supplies...What kinda thief would you be to do that?"

"A lousy one," I comment with a smirk...Okafor didn't seem amused. Our smiles quickly faded.

Okafor folded his hands, "The real question is, why would someone want to steal something like _that_?"

"Maybe it leads to something important in the investigation," Kasie remarked.

Upon thinking about it, maybe those gingers _did_ take it for a good reason...knowing that ADAM could probably be found again somewhere and brought to the surface...no good. Now, with that idea in my head, I think I'd prefer them to not know whatever the hell that red stuff is.

"Whatever it was, it's up to you two to find out who took it and get it back if possible. We can't let this get any worse. This is a peculiar case, we're not entirely sure why the PD turned it over to us, but it's our job to find out who the victim and cause of it was."

"Next photo, please," I glance at my watch.

We went on to several other _unimportant _photos. For the sake of analyzation and Okafor, we went along with picking it apart...I did lose track of what we were doing, though.

My mind kind of left and went to other places. That moment that I received the ADAM in that rough wooden box played over in my mind like a broken record; _I could not stop thinking about it_. Those two that gave me the box were peculiar as well...though I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Yeah, maybe it's just my bias against most gingers. Something was really off about them.

"Detective Wynand? Wynand!"

I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts and shook my head, "Sorry. I'm a bit tired."

"We've gotta have our A-Game for this, there's coffee in the lobby."

"Wait, Okafor- stop at this picture."

"I knew it'd catch her attention," Kasie snickered.

It was a grainy picture of a whiteboard that sat in the corner of the mortician's office. There was visible writing on it, though a large chunk of it was erased, and something was written in red. The wall lamp was on, and the silhouette of two individuals was cast on the walls.

The young intern held out her phone, to which she took a photo of the writing of the whiteboard. I carefully took the device and looked closely at the writing, which turned out to be a set of numbers.

'63° 2' N, 29° 55' W'

'The Answer'

Right...my heart dropped this time, reading the coordinates and the words written in perfect cursive.

Maybe my fear of them discovering ADAM is now moot, as they can probably go to the damn city and find whatever's left of it themselves.

"We plugged in the coordinates, and it was just in the middle of the ocean," Kasie commented apprehensively. "It's roughly 430 kilometers from Reykjavik, Iceland. Maybe it was just some vandals trying to mess with the poor old mortician."

Silence.

"And this was at the same morgue that the body's at?"

"Correct, Wynand, at C.L. Page's."

"That cursive's too perfect to be vandalism," I conclude. "We should look further at this."

"Woah- if we did that, we'd be heading into international waters." Okafor shook his head, "That's a little far fetched to be sending a team out for most likely nothing, Wynand."

I felt a spark of indignation ignite in my diaphragm and bleed up to my head. "How do you know there isn't anything under the water? Didn't you look at the 'Something in the Water' files?"

Okafor cocked a brow at my challenge, to which he leaned forward, "It's not plausible. You think there's a city under there or something? No. Let's be logical."

"What's logical is that we get a small Icelandic crew to scope it out for us, then we can bring a drone over there. Little cost, and could root out where the hell the suit came from. Does that look like any mariner diving suit that you've seen? Encrusted with barnacles and looked like it's been at the bottom of the ocean for-"

"That's enough," Okafor promptly cut me off. Kasie watched with wide, shocked eyes. "We'll talk about this later."

I felt a break in me.

_Something in me said that Rapture needed to be known. _

I nearly told of Rapture and my experience with the underwater city. Though...that probably wouldn't be a good position for me. I don't think I'd be held in the same regard as I did before, whether that's good or bad.

"Please, sir, I insist on this. It _will_ be your worthwhile, I promise. If it isn't," I folded my hands and searched his expression, "I'll provide my position to someone else."

The skin of Okafor's left brow bone quirked at the comment, his mouth parting open slightly in surprise. "You're going to...?" He dismisses his shock, "No. You're not going to try to _fire_ yourself."

"Watch me," I challenged.

Kasie looked in horror between our exchange...poor girl.

The relationship between Okafor and I was...a bit strange, to say in the least. At times we'd banter, and other times we'd be cold, professional, or a weird in-between mix. She's got a lot to learn.

"Get the team yourself, and we'll talk," the ultimatum caused a smile to come across my face. "But first, let's focus on identifying our thief; surely, they're a moving part of this whole scheme too."

The twins contemplatively stood at a glass wall that overlooked the crumbling underwater scene before them. Most signs that were illuminated in the mid-twentieth century now have long been drained of power and only remain as a decaying image of the city's downfall atop the scrap piles that were formerly structured. The structure of several buildings crumbled to the seafloor, now becoming a barren wasteland of rubble. Only did a few structures still stand, though, in disrepair, one building remained not swallowed by the sea's gaping maw.

The female clicked her tongue distastefully at the standing seawater that thinly puddled on the floor beneath them.

"Rosalind?"

"Robert?"

"May we conclude this experiment as a success?"

"With absolute reasoning."

More silence, other than the occasional drip of some crack in a wall, and the stressed moan of the building's structure. A school of fish swam past the dirty panes of the window. The two watched as it passed by.

"It was quite the anomaly of the woman to _not_ report us, I must say," Robert observationally commented and broke the silence.

His counterpart hummed in response, moving to fold her arms behind her back. She inclined her head somewhat curiously at a starfish that slowly crept up the side of the glass. "She is a Gatherer. If they found out her true past, then they indefinitely would be able to track the theft of the ADAM back to her true intentions."

"Curious, these generations are."

"Which generations?"

"The recent ones."

"Ah. Yes, those generations are peculiar; it merely is the fact that they are different than _our time_. Especially the woman."

"I concur. Perhaps the access to knowledge through their technological developments has made them dull to deeper emotional reception."

"One can be certainly _doubtful_ about the outcome of this, given the unique situation at hand."

"Perhaps with our controlling of the experiment, it changed the outcome drastically."

"Controlling the experiment, you say?" Rosalind cocked a brow, "Perhaps merely _altering_ _a variable_ of it was our doing."

"Curious."

Rosalind turned her head to observe a skeleton hunched in the corner; It seemed a terrible death. The slimy green bones appeared to be warped in areas, and the frame was misshapen, perhaps due to the excessive splicing that was done to themselves.

With a grimace, she turned her penetrating gaze from the scene to her right, where a Big Daddy bouncer suit lay; it was on its side, the numerous 'eyes' on the helmet either fogged over or cracked entirely. The drill seemed rusted beyond recognition.

"An utterly dreadful state of affairs," Rosalind remarked.

Robert concurred, "Indeed so. They will find everything they need here...if they can enter without the entire building collapsing."

"It seems as if we led them to a dead end."

"A dead end?" queried Robert. "I would not entirely agree that the end was cut short, rather than they have entered a difficult portion of the investigation."

The two watched as an underwater drone swam through a school of fish then entirely stopped in front of the window. It seemed to turn around to some angles, perhaps getting a view of the scenery around, before the camera lens focused directly through the window. The lights that were affixed both sides of the drone's body shone into the disgusting interior, and directly on the twins.

"Might you say this experiment was a success?" Rosalind looked directly at the camera, unblinking. The both of them, despite the sudden exposure to the Icelandic crew through the lens of the drone, remained motionless and watched the device moving slightly askew due to a rogue current.

The glass on the other wall could be heard as a large crack began to spiderweb across the surface...perhaps it seemed to cave in at any moment. The two turned to look back at the glass before looking at the drone.

"Why, yes, I do think it turned out more successful than we thought. An outcome that defied our logic."

"Onto the next one, brother?"

"Onward."

The lights of the camera momentarily shorted out as the Lutece twins disappeared before the crew's eyes. After some short moments, less than a few seconds, the lights returned to full power; As they returned, however, the glass burst and water has filled the interior of the building.

It's been weeks since I initially got an Icelandic sea crew to survey the area. Finally, this week was the week that I apprehensively waited for results on the dive.

By apprehensively waiting, I drank several glasses of scotch while watching endless reruns of the Lucy Show in my hotel room. Apprehensively, of course.

Tonight I was going to _bury_ that damn ADAM. Throughout that time, since I'd received it, I couldn't keep it off of my mind, becoming utterly paranoid that the feds would somehow find out that I had it. If those gingers framed me, I'd have the evidence as clear as day...but not if it's buried somewhere far away.

Some hours later, I set down my empty crystal glass and grabbed my purse that had the container.

It was a bit painful, I'd admit, returning to the old house that Jack got to raise us as healthy kids. We were far from ordinary...we just wore the facade that we were the typical family.

Jack was a widower, we were his children, and Tenenbaum was a dear friend. We moved to the peaceful state of Maine to find a better life after our mother's death...that's the story that was drilled in our heads endlessly_ to the word_ for anyone who asked who we were or where we were from. We, of course, used our real names, yes, and Jack's surname.

For a short time, it did feel like we were finally a _typical_ family...somewhat. We would have regular 'familial' outings to the park and he would often take us to the cinema to see whatever was playing on the big screen at the time. My personal favorite was 'A Hard Day's Night.'

I slowed my car to a stop in front of an old and vacant house. No lights were on, several windows were boarded up...and several broken windows as well. Storm shutters were broken off and rusted. The paint on the side of the house began to peel, and the wood rotting- a real shame that this house couldn't have been kept up. Now it remains in disrepair, waiting for the release of death by a strong gust of wind to cause it to collapse.

The framework was sturdy, so collapsing may have been unlikely. Perhaps the house already had it's death once we lost ownership of it?

I put the hood of my jacket over my head as I climbed through the blown-out porch window. The shards of glass scattered across the bare concrete floor crunched under my shoes, and the only sound I heard was my own breathing.

My heart squeezed as I continued further into the shell of a home. The stairway, the walkway that overlooks the kitchen, memories flooded into my mind that I haven't thought about in many many years. Bitter memories...good memories. Sad memories.

As soon as I knew it, I was silently weeping like a baby when approaching the kitchen. I looked out the window that overlooked the water, now the sun setting and illuminating the sea in a beautiful golden glow.

I set my bag down on the counter and took out the container. It took a struggle to open from the seal that was put on it, but eventually, it popped open, and the vile smell of ADAM stung my nostrils.

Another feeling I haven't felt in so long...maybe even considered a relapse in a sense. A strong compulsion was felt to _taste_ the viscous liquid. As soon as I know, the thing was tilted, and I scooped out a little bit on my finger. The taste was the same, just as vile and bloody...I quickly stepped outside to cough it back up; my body rejected it as soon as I swallowed it.

Some time passed before I felt well enough to go back inside and close the thing. All during this time, I had my head deep in the sands of my memories while making my way to the backyard to bury the damn thing.

To end this nightmare once and for all.

I didn't even bring a shovel, I only used my bare hands, soon wiping them on the interior of my jacket when I was done.

I broke.

"I miss you, Jack..." I wept to myself and looked up to the sky, "S-Say hello to Rose Mary. Tell her the kids are fine, and everything's normal for once in our wayward lives."

The rest of the time I spent inside the house and wept in the kitchen. I mourned my past and those I lost; I mourned Jack and Miss Tenenbaum. I mourned on behalf of my sisters for Rose Mary. The few young girls that remained undiscovered by Tenenbaum. I sat on the ground against the kitchen island and looked at the doorway. On the wall next to it were faint markings on the wall, black marker, of lines with heights and names.

Our names.

Unlike the Big Sisters, we grew to be normal humans with standard heights. Judy was the tallest, and Diane was the shortest. Anne stayed the same height when she got to the age of seventeen: five feet and seven inches. I still fondly remember Jack attempting to figure out how to use the tape measurer...we all laughed until he gave up and wrote our names for the time being. Later he went back to measure the notches and mark it down.

Those were the days...I lowered my head onto my knees and deeply wept.

I heard my cell phone ring in my bag. Slowly getting to my feet, I reached for my phone and answered the incoming call. Mustering up all the strength I could to neutralize the emotion in my voice, I sniffled and lifted the phone to my ear.

"This is Detective Wynand speaking."

"It looks like you were right."

"Okafor?"

"I need you in as soon as you can. We've got evidence to discuss."

Despite my heavy sorrow, a smirk was evident across my lips.

"I'll be there in three days."

This is how Andrew Ryan's biggest fear finally came to fruition; the underwater city was brought into the peripheral vision of the United States government.

_My name is Julie Wynand. Me, along with my sisters, are former Gatherers of Rapture._

* * *

_i think i can say that this story can finally be marked as complete! thanks guys for sticking with it and my terrible time between updates. special thank-you to reviewer merendinoemiliano for reviewing all my chapters and giving me feedback on things, it's really appreciated and gave me motivation to continue this story!_

_i have another story (albeit a one-shot) that i plan to write in the near future :))) i'm excited to write it!_

_also hello to everyone on amino to which i advertised this story on here :)_

_thanks guys so much for sticking with this wild ride of a story. i really appreciate it. if you have any suggestions, please let me know in the reviews!_

_-rtr_


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